


Hard-Hitting Literature

by trashagao (orphan_account)



Series: Asagao Drabbles [2]
Category: Asagao Academy: Normal Boots Club
Genre: Have some flirtatiousness, It's only teen for a couple of swears!, M/M, This was based on a prompt submitted anonymously, didyouknowtronning - Freeform, shanetron - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 16:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8630443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/trashagao
Summary: A short drabble based on this prompt: “I have twenty pages left in my book and if you don’t shut up I will do one of the follow: scream, cry, or throw my book at you.” This was also posted on my tumblr blog @trashagao under the tag 'gabby writes'





	

“Shane -” Jon halted suddenly, frozen in place by one silent gesture: a single finger raised to his lips. Shane sat across from him, leaning forward, the other hand holding his place in a thick novel. And he looked pissed.

“I have twenty pages left in my book,” Shane began, icily calm, “and if you don’t shut up I will do one of the following: scream, cry, or throw my book at you.” He flashed a dangerously exasperated smile before slumping back in his seat and cracking open the book. Jon rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, tough guy. Shane, I would pay actual money to see you cry, so you kind of just screwed yourself.”

“You’re forgetting the other options,” Shane hissed, raising his book over his head warningly. Jon called the bluff, but dove for a protective pillow just in case. He scrunched up on Shane’s bed, eyes squeezed shut behind the fluffy shield. And waited. But no papery onslaught came. Slowly, cautiously, he opened one eye.

“Y’know, Shane, this is what you get for inviting me to - FUCK!” Shane chuckled despite himself, though his smile quickly faded as Jon keeled over in pain, clutching his throbbing forehead. “You asshole, that fucking hurt!” Shane blurted a series of curses, hesitated, and ended up with his hands outstretched into the air as if his desperate grasping at nothing would miraculously save his friend from a migraine. He didn’t know what to do. Shit, he had thrown that book a bit too hard. Should he get ice? Jon suddenly flipped over, going limp with his tongue lolling out of his mouth. “Treachery! Betrayal! Man down! I’ve been shot by my best friend and -” He interrupted himself this time with a loud snort of laughter.

By now, Jon had partially slid off the bed and was suspended upside down over the edge, making his assholeish grin all the more assholey from Shane’s perspective. His plump cheeks scrunched up as he smiled coyly, pointing at Shane’s increasingly sour expression. “Ooh, you’re mad, aren’t you? You were all worried about me and shit.” Shane huffed, rolling his shoulders back like a tiger about to pounce. And pounce he did, standing with a start from his chair and angrily closing the distance between them. Jon clapped a hand over his eyes, still smirking. “Shane back up your junk is, like, directly in my face.”

He was mentally preparing himself for a good old ‘Shane scolding’. Instead, a warm hand closed gently around his pinky finger, lifting his hand off his own face. It was hard to make out Shane’s expression with all this blood rushing to his head, but he looked… concerned? Slowly, Shane’s hand drifted to Jon’s chin and he tilted his head from side to side, inspecting the red mark on his forehead.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Jon’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t expecting that. The smirk was replaced by a slight tug at the corner of his lips, a small and very confused smile. “Yeah, man, I’m fine… U-uh, I’ll be quiet, okay?”

Shane glanced over at the book, lying open on the floor. Then he shrugged. “Looks like I lost my place anyways. So… fuck it. How about Nario Kart?”

Jon’s eyes lit up. “You read my mind.”


End file.
